


Honeysuckle, Blue Hyacinths, Yarrow

by Boldly_going_places



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Drinking (controlled and healthy), Jim is allergic to everything, M/M, Multi, Spock and Bones are married, but Jim's hot and kind and shit, mild swearing, so who can't resist that, summer barbecue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-06-17 20:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15469860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boldly_going_places/pseuds/Boldly_going_places
Summary: Jim works in a flower shop and two Science Boys fall in love with him.





	1. Lavender Rose

Spock was late. Spock was never late, which was why Leonard was so goddamn worried. Not that he wasn’t always worrying about the hobgoblin (wonky vital signs and unclear tricorder readings never made him comfortable), but--like he said before-- _Spock was never late_. Leonard checked the time again, just in case he had misread it, but no: It was ten past six, and he was sitting alone in Ristos. Maybe he should call--no he should _definitely_ call, if something happened to Spock he would never forgive himself.

Just as he was pulling out his phone, Spock entered the restaurant looking almost flustered, as much as a Vulcan could be.

“Nice of you to show up,” McCoy said, tucking his phone into his pocket, trying to mask his worry.

“My apologies, Leonard.” Spock’s voice was even, but McCoy saw the faint green blush on his cheeks and a certain Look in his eyes. “I was...caught up buying flowers. For you.”

McCoy took his suspicious gaze from Spock’s face to the bouquet he was carrying, gladiolas, alstroemerias, and peonies. Face softening, he gently took them from Spock, and brushed their fingers in a quick Vulcan kiss and a soft human peck--Spock relaxed, seemingly forgetting what had him flustered in the first place.

“God these are beautiful, Spock, thank you. Flowers really got you that flustered, huh?” Leonard teased. He blushed again, the tips of his ears going green.

“It was a difficult decision. You are notoriously hard to please, ashayam,” Spock retorted, but the blush didn’t leave.

“Sure,” Leonard would let it go for now. But anything--or body (now wasn’t that a thought?)--that got his sweet Spock twisted around like a coon hound on a leash must have been pretty interesting. They had a solid relationship, and Leonard didn’t really give a hoot about some stranger hitting on Spock now and then. They were practically married. Well, not married, McCoy had...problems with marriage--besides, they didn’t need some flimsy scrap of paper saying they loved each other. God knows they loved each other, or they wouldn’t put up with each other’s bullshit so often. And between the bullshit was all the good shit. Still, it was always fun to tease him about it.

“How was your day?” Leonard asked after they ordered.

“It went well. Two cadets attempted to start a fight outside of my classroom, over what I haven’t the slightest idea. Nyota invited us to her house for a barbeque next week,” Spock said.

“Oh, yeah? When is it?” Leonard asked, bumping his foot against Spock’s under the table.

“Saturday at 1300,” Spock said, resting his foot ever so slightly against his husband’s.

“I’ll see if I can get it off. Who the Hell knows though, goddamn idiot kids running around eatin’ random shit, gettin’ shitfaced--do you know how many stomachs needed to be pumped last Friday? Jesus, I mean I wonder how the Hell these kids are even still alive.” Leonard leaned back into his chair incredulously.

“I surmise that you are the reason, Doctor,” Spock shot back, an eyebrow barely quirked. Leonard snorted and smiled genuinely at the Vulcan.

“You’re damn right.”

There food came and went, and the couple left leaning against each other, not in inebriation, but for the sake of it, Leonard warming the taller man--middle of summer, and the damn Vulcan still felt a chill when the sun set. They drove home in a comfortable silence, until Leonard thought again of Spock’s flusteration when he first arrived.

“So,” he couldn’t help but ask, “it wasn’t the flowers, was it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spock said.

“Don’t play sly with me, darlin’, you know exactly what I’m talkin’ about,” Leonard said. “I know it wasn’t any goddamn gladiolas that had you blushing like freshly-mown grass. So…?”

“The florist who helped me was...charming, by human standards,” he finally gave, and Leonard smiled wide.

“That so? And let me guess, you were as smooth and disarming as you always are?” Leonard teased. All he got was a glare in return. “If he got you that flustered, he must have been a little more than _charming_.”

“I am not participating in what you call a ‘gossip session,’ Leonard. I was simply...taken off guard,” Spock said. “But he wasn’t awful to look at.” Leonard shot a wide grin to his husband as he pulled into their garage.

As Spock unlocked the door, Leonard face palmed. “I forgot the flowers.”

 

* * *

 

He really couldn’t help himself. There were only a few flower shops in the area, so it wasn’t that hard to find the one Spock had gone to, and when he found it, he knew. The man behind the counter was making wreaths of flowers, listening aptly to a podcast playing quietly next to him. He didn’t look up when Leonard entered, but the doctor saw him--soft blond hair flopping into his eyes, hands weaving the flowers into each other.

Rather than alert the man to his presence right away, he looked around for a few minutes, genuinely admiring the bouquets and collections of flowers, relishing in the sweet aromas of delphiniums and hyacinths. He stole a quick few glances at the man, before going up to the counter, gently tapping on it to get the man’s attention.

He looked up, jostled from his reverie, and when he saw it was a customer, a sheepish look swept onto his face quickly, before being overcome by a friendly one. His eyes were ocean blue (what can he say, Leonard wasn’t a poet, he was a doctor), and Leonard nearly choked on air. Goddamn, no wonder Spock was so out-of-sorts.

“Hi,” he said.

Leonard just stared for a minute, unaware he was doing it, before he caught himself and let out a weak, “Hi, there.”

“Sorry, I got caught up with this,” he held up the wreath, sheepishly, again. “What can I help you with?”

Leonard cleared his throat. “Well, my husband came in about a week ago and got me a bouquet of, uh, peonies, gladiolas, and...well somethin’ else, and I want to get him something nice,” he managed to get out.

“Alstroemeria, too,” the man said. “I remember. It was Spock right?”

Leonard raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Good memory.”

“Well, it’s not every day a Vulcan comes in looking for a romantic bouquet. I’m Jim by the way,” he said, and held out his hand. “I hope you liked the bouquet.”

“Leonard.” They shook hands. “And yeah it was beautiful. I, uh, forgot it at the restaurant, but I appreciated it.”

Jim smiled, eyes lit up with amusement, and Leonard couldn’t help but smile back. “So, something romantic?” He walked out from behind the counter and started walking around the rows of flowers.

“I’m not sure, don’t want to get too sappy,” Leonard replied, following a few paces behind him.

“No roses then?” Jim asked teasingly, pulling out a bunch of the nicest ones, smiling over the tops of the flowers, lush pink lips accentuated by the deep red of the flowers. Leonard’s eyes flickered down for half--no, not even half--a second, before half-laughing and rubbing the back of his neck

"I’m not trying to court the guy, we’re already married--God knows it was hard enough. I was thinking something more subtle, something more...Spock.” Leonard spotted a display of cacti out of the corner of his eye. Oh, those were perfect. “One of those would be good.” He picked up one, a little spiky ball in a clay vase--perfect. Jim laughed.

“‘Cause he’s Vulcan?”

“No, to remind him of home,” but the smile on Leonard’s face told a different story.

“Vulcan doesn’t have cacti like that,” Jim pointed out.

“How the Hell do you know that?”

“I’ve taken a lot of botany classes,” he said, shifting a little. “My aunt says I should go into a command track, but uh. Plants are cool.”

“You’re Starfleet?” Leonard asked, surprised. He seemed too old to be a cadet, but he didn’t recognize him from any of Spock’s fancy, academic get-togethers.

“Yeah, just getting started, really. Had to sort stuff out.”

“And your aunt’s still telling you what to do?”

Jim snorted and shrugged. “She cares about me.”

They walked back to the counter, Leonard cradling the cactus, already growing fond of the spiky thing.

As the doctor pulled out his card, Jim waved his hand dismissively, “It’s on the house.”

“I can’t do that, man, it’s really not a big deal--”

“Seriously. It’s no big deal for _me_ , I just hope Spock likes it,” Jim smiled and winked. Oh god, this kid was gonna kill him.

He cleared his throat--again--and uttered a thanks.

“Spock will love it.”

“See you ‘round,” Jim called out to his retreating back.

Leonard very much hoped he would see him around.

 

* * *

 

Spock was typing on his PADD when Leonard placed the cactus on his desk.

“Cute flower shop, there.”

“You found it.” Not a question. “Fascinating plant choice.”

“Thought it might remind you of home. Jim hoped you would like it, too,” Leonard said, plopping into one of the soft, but somehow uncomfortable, chairs across from his husband.

Spock’s ears colored green. “Jim?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Spock, I know for a fact you know who I’m talkin’ about. He remembered you,” he teased, and it worked--Spock’s blush spread to his cheeks, a light dusting.

“Ah, yes. Jim,” Spock said and went back to his work, obviously not wanting to talk about it further. That just wouldn’t do.

“Yes, Jim!” he said, incredulous.

“What about Jim, ashayam?” he was still typing away on his PADD, although his attention was clearly split.

“Anybody who has my stick-up-his-ass husband interested and flustered and lookin’ like a goddamn teenager when their crush asks them to homecoming must be one hell of a person. And boy howdy, Jim was one helluva a guy!” Leonard said and stood up, unable to contain his frustration with husband’s unwillingness to talk about this.

“Aesthetically, it would be illogical for me to deny that Jim is pleasing. However, I am unable to draw any conclusions about the appeal of his personality, as, collectively, you and I have only talked to him for approximately ten minutes. It is impossible to judge a person with any accuracy in such a short amount of time,” Spock said, his attention taken, once again, from his work.

Leonard was about to say something snarky back, but stopped himself, considered Spock’s words and nodded in...agreement. How shocking. “I get what you’re saying, darlin’. But don’t you want to get to know him more?”

“I would not be opposed to the idea,” he replied.

“Well?”

"And how do we go about this, dear?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many times can Spock and Bones say Jim in one conversation? Keep reading to find out!  
> I don't know anything about flower meanings besides what I looked up, so this may be slightly inaccurate given context and stuff, but that's life. And of course, the flowers have significance, not too much though, it's not that deep. But goddamn I love flowers.  
> Where has Jim been? I don't know, we'll see at some point I'm sure. Is Uhura going to show up? Is Scotty going to show up? Is Sulu going to show up? We'll see. And what about Leonard's nickname? Where will that come from? Stay tuned to find out!  
> I hope to update this once a week or once every two weeks, but honestly, whose counting? Does time even exist? Also, just going through this, I feel like I wrote a lot, but um...no t a lot end m e. Wow I love this!  
> Come bother me on [tumblr](http://not-bumper-stickers.tumblr.com/) (@not-bumper-stickers)  
> Anyways, thank you for reading, and if you liked it, kudos and comments are always loved.


	2. Pink Hyacinths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is wallowing in self-pity and trying to control his Feelings™.

“I have the worst luck,” Jim said to the drunk Russian next to him. “Two very attractive people come in to the shop, and they’re both married...to each other!”

“Marriage was invented in Russia,” the boy slurred, Russian accent almost impossible to understand. “So was jealousy.”

Jim scoffs. “I’m not jealous, Pavel. I just have bad luck.”

“Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, you could have anybody you want, and you focus on two unavailable men married to each other?” Pavel waved his glass out to the groups of people scattered around the bar. “Look at that...that... _krasivaya_ woman, so lovely. She keeps looking at you with, with, with those _eyes_ , you could have her. Or that cadet from Botany, he keeps glancing. You are so...so...captivating! That is the word.”

Jim was barely listening--he was thinking, instead, about the smooth southern accent of the man who had called himself Leonard, that brown hair, those hazel eyes. Oh and Spock, all perfect bowl cut, inquisitive eyes, and those hands--

Jim cut off his train of thought. “I don’t want one night stands anymore. I’ve tried that already, Pavel, and it didn’t work. It just made me unhappy and self-conscience.”

“And you think a married couple will solve that?”

“That’s not what I said,” Jim sipped his margarita. “I just want some commitment.”

“You are not going to find commitment in a bar, Jimmy,” Pavel said and took another shot of vodka. “What you need is a job that doesn’t involve romance.”

“Not all flowers are romantic,” he grumbled half-heartedly. But Pavel did have a point--he wasn’t going to find love in a place where couples bought flowers for each other. Oh, but he _loved_ flowers: It was so nice to help people find just the right flowers to send just the right message. If only _he_ had somebody to send a message to--maybe a Vulcan or--shit, this bar was going to send him down a hole he couldn’t get out of. “I’m going home, Pav. You wanna join me?”

“Is that a...a...an offer?” Pavel waggled his eyebrows.

“I meant to your dorm. _Dorm,_ Pavel, your only nineteen, relax,” Jim finished off his drink and grabbed his jacket--a hand-me-down from his brother, leather worn soft.

“No, no, I will stay longer and walk. I can walk.” He got up to show what a great walker he was, but grabbed onto Jim’s jacket when he nearly face planted onto the hardwood.

“I think you’ve had enough fun for one night, buddy. Damn Pav, how much did you drink?”

“More than you ever could. And it is not very ‘fun’ hearing you complain your angst about married men,” but he was laying out money on the bar and following Jim outside, stumbling after the older man.

The stars were obscured by light pollution--no matter the amount of environmental restraints the government had administered, old scars remained. Jim sighed into the night, imagining being up there, with them; he imagined it would feel like home, right in a way Earth never felt, not even surrounded by flowers. Someday. Soon hopefully.

“More time to look at stars later, Jimmy. I want to go home now,” Pavel said, leaning against him--clingy drunk.

“Funny, two minutes ago you didn’t want to leave.” Jim put an arm Pavel to support his growing weight, and the boy cuddled into him like a cat would.

“Jim, you are best friend.”  

“Thanks, Pav. You too.”

 

* * *

 

 Okay, yeah, Jim was crushing on these married guys, so much that he told Pavel, who was undoubtedly never going to let him forget. The problem was obvious, and one that just...didn’t _have_ a solution. At the very least, he probably wouldn’t see either one of them again--it was just a chance encounter that would have no further effect on his life. That was the _idea_ anyway. So of course he saw them again.

 

* * *

 

 It was both of them this time at Uhura’s barbecue that Pavel made him go to, because somehow the Russian was good enough friends with a professor to be invited to her barbecue. Plus he knew the Sulus, and they were friends with _everybody._  Jim was dressed down--shorts, Hawaiian shirt, flip flops--and was taking this time to relax. He didn’t even see them for the first twenty minutes because he was busy talking to Hikaru and Ben about Demora, who he had babysat a few times and adored. Pavel elbowed him sharply in the side to make him look over.

“Look who’s here,” he teased.

When he saw them, his eyes widened and lips parted.

Leonard was dressed down in blue jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers. He was talking--no, telling a story--to Uhura, his hands flying around, emphasizing and animating, his hair an absolute mess. Spock wasn’t too far away, his black hair slightly unkempt from the wind, eyes hidden behind a pair of round sunglasses--he wore what can only be called Vulcan Vogue, a light shawl, plain shirt, black pants, and...sandals. Still incredibly endearing.

“Jim? Jim? Everything alright?” Jim snapped his gaze back to the Sulus. Another married couple--oh, him creepily checking out those guys would be like checking out Ben or Hikaru, well knowing that they’re married.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry what were you saying? Something about Demora?”

“Obviously nothing that important. Who were you looking at?” Hikaru said, looking over to Leonard and Spock. “Oh, no. Jim.”

Jim scowled, but said, “‘Oh, no’ what Hikaru? I’m not doing anything, I was just...looking over there. At the flowers. They’re very nice flowers.”

“Is that what you call Vulcans now?” he teased.

“What--no, I’m--I was just--that’s ridiculous, I wouldn’t--” Jim spluttered, but never finished his sentence. Leonard was making his way over to them, Pavel talking excitedly by his side. Oh no. No, no, no. This was a bad idea.

“Hey, flower boy.”

Jim smiled as best he could, trying not to ogle at the Southern man (he was more handsome up close, this was not good), trying not to hang on the impromptu nickname, trying not to melt into the grass.

“Hi!” he said. He could _hear_ the exclamation point in his own voice, and tried to swallow his feelings. _Married, married, married,_ he chanted inside. “Did, uh, did Spock like the cactus?”

“Got a real kick out of it,” Leonard eyed the Vulcan who was talking to Uhura.”Least as much as a Vulcan can.”

“Good,” Jim said, floundering for something else to say. If he could just _talk_ like he can every other day (every other _second_ ), this wouldn’t be so weird. Maybe it wasn’t weird. Maybe he was _making_ it weird. He was fine those few minutes in the flower shop, but _now_? This was different--he couldn’t hide behind flowers and professionalism.

“Doctor.” Pavel was a blessing. “I heard  some interesting stories from cadets in Biology the other day, about a party…?”

“Oh, God, Chekov, I don’t think you’re ready for this one. So some idiot brings some ‘mysterious powder’ to a party--so _mysterious_ that they didn’t even have a name for it. Now I don’t know exactly what happens at the party, but I know that a coupla kids come in, faces puffed up, barely breathin’. Thank the lord there were only a few of ‘em, took everything we had to keep them stable until we knew what it was--to make it even worse, some of them were flailin’ around like a fish on a hot dock. Turns out it was some Vulcan plant that an ambassador’s kid had snuck off the planet--God knows how, those guys are stoic as a Grecian pillar.” Jim was completely entranced by Leonard’s face, his hands gesturing here and there, animating the gruffness in his voice. “Had to take a quick run through some databases--”

“And a frantic call to his husband,” an even voice broke in. Spock. The minute they stood together, Jim’s senses tunnelled, until all he was seeing was them: It felt like his whole world was possessed in these two men, men he didn’t know but just _tugged_ on him like he was inexplicably tied to them.

“--broken bones wouldn’t even stop these kids,” Leonard was still talking. _Broken bones?_ “After we gave them the antidote to that Vulcan crap, they were out like Johanna after a cuppa chamomile tea.”

“So it didn’t kill them?” Pavel asked, a mischievous lilt to his voice that made Leonard give him a warning look.

“Would’ve if somebody hadn’t called the hospital. Don’t get any ideas, Chekov--just ‘cause you can drink most of us under the table, doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to do alien drugs.”

“But Earth drugs are okay?” he teased, smiling innocently at the doctor.

“Now listen here, I didn’t say anything of the sort,”

“I don’t know, doc,” no, not doc, that wasn’t quite right, “you did say _alien_ drugs.” Jim chimed in.

“Aw, c’mon, Jim don’t side with him.” Jim only smiled sweetly at Leonard, noticing the slight twitch echoed in the doctor’s lips. “Don’t do drugs, any of them, either of you.” Then he shot a look to Spock, who was perfect-postured next to Leonard. “Especially you, pointy.”

“I believe you’re confusing incense with drugs, Leonard,” Spock shot back calmly. There was a little twinkle in his eyes--no doubt taking just as much amusement from this as everybody else. Well, everybody else being the four of them now. Or the three of them, Pavel seemed to have gotten distracted by something Ben was saying.

“Incense?” Jim asked, for lack of anything else to say, and he didn’t want them to just _walk away_ (even though they probably should).

“Meditation,” Spock answered simply. “It helps control a person’s emotional state and establish mindfulness.”

“Must be a pretty nice thing to be able to control,” Jim said. If only he could do it now.

“It’s one of those Vulcan things.” Leonard stood next to Jim, both of them looking at Spock. “But don’t let him fool you--everybody’s cried at _Coco_ and he is no exception.”

“I would not say I exhibited quite a blatant emotion. Though I cannot deny it did...stir some emotion in me,” Spock reached up and adjusted his glasses from where they shimmied down his nose.

“Never watched _Sun and Moon_?” Jim asked.

“My mother and I watched it when I was a child,” Spock said. “It elicited an emotional response from me at the time.”

“He means he cried,” Leonard fake whispered to him. Jim smiled and took a bite of whatever was left on his plate.

“As many children do at movies meant to elicit an emotional response,” he retorted. Something was happening to Jim, it was getting a little hard to breath, skin tickling a little--maybe it was being around Leonard and Spock--no it wasn’t. Oh no, it was bad, really bad. Before he could do anything, his face began to swell and, panicked, he reached out to Leonard, gripping hard on the man’s cotton t-shirt.

“Wha--oh shit.” It was like fun-Leonard was gone and Doctor McCoy came out, all medical seriousness. Even dying, Jim could appreciate that. “Do you have any epipen?”

Jim fumbled into his pocket, the doctor grabbing it the minute he saw it, jabbing it into Jim’s thigh. Somebody was on the phone, calling an ambulance. He couldn’t breath and his hand still wrapped in Leonard’s shirt, trying to focus on something, trying to breath.

 

* * *

 

Muffled talking, constant beeping, that antiseptic smell. Those could only mean one thing, one not good thing.

“Hrmgahrm.” His mouth was dry, tasted like ass.

“Hey, you’re awake, flower boy,” came a gentle voice, like...like...whiskey. Mm. Whiskey. Jim looked to his left and jumped--a skeleton in a lab coat! How had it talked to him? It had no tongue.

A glass of water was pressed against his lips. “Over here, Jimbo.” Oh. That made more sense. Jim smiled dopily at the man--Leonard, it was Leonard--and water spilled down his chin. What was he on?

“Thanks, Bones,” Jim managed against a scratchy throat. Bones. Better than doc. “‘Cause the skeleton.”

Bones snorted and recorded Jim’s vitals. “Alright, there, loopy. You had a nasty reaction to something at Uhura’s party, had to give you some heavy stuff to calm it down. You’ll be okay in an hour or two.”

Party? Right, he ate...probably something with shellfish, that always gave him the worst reactions. And he was talking to Bones and...Spock, right. They were all having fun and Jim was being stupid--why was something like that even on his plate?

“Sorry,” he mumbled, guilty even though he had no control over it.

“‘Sorry’? Jesus, kid, you didn’t _do_ anything. If anything the shellfish should be sayin’ sorry.” Bones said.

“Yeah, but it was your day off,” Jim said.

The doctor spluttered. “Jim, you were _dying,_ what was I supposed to do, sit there and let it happen, ‘cause it was my ‘day off’? Besides, couldn’t let a pretty face like yours go to waste.”

He was joking, he was just joking around, but being called ‘pretty’ right now made his heart go _thumpthumpthump_ rather than _thump thump thump_.

The heart monitor noticed, and Bones noticed. He smiled down to Jim, before saying, “The hospital wants you here for another couple hours to monitor you and let the drugs wear off, but you’ll be good to go home afterwards. Just don’t go ‘round eating shellfish anymore, alright?”

“Sure, Doctor Bones,” Jim said, voice weak still, slurred with medication.

“If you need anything, here’s my comm number. Just in case anything small happens. Could call the hospital, but God knows there’s always someone hurtin’ more.” Bones transferred it to Jim’s PADD with a touch. “See you ‘round, Jim.”

“See ya, Bones.”

A comm number. What was he supposed to do with that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo Boy, gotta have that Allergy Boy out there. And now Jim has a number, I wonder what could possibly happen? Also, I know Chekov is only nineteen, but let's just say the drinking age has changed. And I don't know any Russian, so I prayed that google translate didn't fuck me over with the single russian word I used.
> 
> The sulus know Jim because Hikaru loves botany, as we all know, and Jim is the Flower Man. 
> 
> Coco is a classic here, and it's Johanna's favorite movie (Johanna's little in this one). Sun and Moon is a title I made up, probably about some heartbreaking love story about sacrifice and stuff--one that's for kids but makes anybody who watches it cry (and baby Spock did cry at it, as well as Amanda).
> 
> I would say the nicknames for Jim from Bones are overdone, but honestly--that's just how Bones Is. This chapter will probably be edited endlessly as the story progresses, because I'm not 100% pleased with it. Maybe some day. 
> 
> and worry not! There will be much more Spock in the next chapter. 
> 
> Come bother me on my [tumblr](http://not-bumper-stickers.tumblr.com/) (@not-bumper-stickers) , or if you have any thoughts, share them! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I love comments and kudos!


	3. Chrysanthemum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock has FEELINGS, which he actually acknowledges?? Shocking

Spock loved Leonard. It was an emotion he tried to quell when they first met, but after being together for five years, it seemed illogical in itself to deny. The advent of meeting Jim Kirk had not changed Spock’s feelings towards Leonard--rather it seemed to open new pathways in his mind: What could be. What should be, even. Spock took his hands from where they were steepled in thought and ran a finger along the little vase of the cactus Leonard had bought him.

_Jim hoped you would like it, too._

Spock leaned back in his chair, eyes again floating to his PADD. He had asked after Jim’s health--the sudden allergic reaction had shocked him and his concern was not unwarranted. But it had surely passed now. There was no logical reason he should still be focused on the man. There were, certainly, illogical reasons, as there were for everything, but none that Spock would consider. They were too outlandish--any rational person (Vulcan or otherwise) would agree. Still. New pathways.

Spock’s computer beeped pulling him out of his revery.

“Yes?” he said as Nyota’s face popped up on the screen.

“Spock, there’s an emergency. Could take over administering a test this afternoon for Klingon I?”

“Of course. Are you well?”

“ _I’m_ fine, but my grandmother was hospitalized this morning.”

“That’s...unfortunate. I hope she will be well soon.”

“Thank you, Spock. I’ll talk to you later.”

Spock nodded as she hung up. It wasn’t unusual for the professor to ask favors such as this--they had started teaching at the same time, and faced many of the same problems. Thus their friendship was born and had remained since. It was, in fact, Uhura who had suffered through many lunch breaks dealing with Spock searching for the brown-haired doctor and many comments on what an accomplished physician he was, and Uhura who had pushed him to tell Leonard how he felt. Surely it would have taken months--if not years--longer for Spock to divulge his feelings if not for her. He owed her any favor she had.

A notification for the test file being shared popped up on his screen. He had administered many tests before. This would not be a problem

 

* * *

 

The test wasn’t a problem. There wasn’t a problem at all, in fact. Only it was interesting, coincidental, even, that James T. Kirk was in Uhura’s Klingon I class--he knew because the man had smiled widely at him when he first entered, to which Spock gave a small nod. The test went by easily as Spock typed up a grant, looking up every ten minutes to make sure everybody was focused on their own test. 

The first person finished in forty-one minutes and thirty-seven seconds--an incredibly short amount of time. Spock looked at the name attached to the file where it notified him on the PADD next to him--James T. Kirk. Either it was impressive or Jim had done a very poor, rushed job. Either way, he looked up to see the man gathering his things and cocked an eyebrow, to which Jim smiled, almost smug, then left the classroom. Amusement tickled at the edge of Spock’s lips, and there it remained.

 

* * *

 

Spock came home to a sleeping doctor, still in his scrubs, snoring on the couch. He quietly closed the door behind him, set his bag down on the bench next to the door, and sat in the armchair across from the couch, just watching. Leonard’s hair was a mess--he would need to get it cut soon--his face was slack in sleep, and stubble peppered his face. Spock found himself going almost into a meditative state from the familiar and constant snoring, the sound lulling him. Just as he was about to, a _snrk_ left Leonard and he woke up, blearily wiping his eyes. His sleepy gaze fell onto Spock, and he smiled softly.

“How long was I out?” he asked, stretching and groaning.

“I arrived home fifteen minutes ago,” Spock said. “You’ve been asleep since.”

“Hmm.” He laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “How was your day?”

“Fine. I administered a test for Nyota in her Klingon I class, and attended a Physics Department meeting.”

“Any cheaters?”

“No.”

“Not that you could _tell_ at least.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at his husband. “I believe my experience as a professor and my Vulcan senses would allow me to discern whether or not a student was cheating, Leonard.”

“You’d be surprised. Y’know, back in my glory days, I was quite the bad boy. Got away with a lot of cheating.”

If he were in less control of his emotions, that would make Spock scoff. “You have never been, nor could you ever be, a ‘bad boy.’”

“I was on the fringes of society, baby, smoking weed, cheating my way through high school, wooing the ladies,” Leonard said.

Spock raised his other eyebrow. “‘Wooing the ladies’?”

“Don’t look at me like that, pointy,” he said, getting up and stretching. “How do you think I managed to catch you?”

“It must have been your charming endearments,” Spock said, even as Leonard leaned down to kiss his forehead, which he leaned into, gently brushing his fingers against Leonard’s wrist where he was holding his shoulder.

“And who said Vulcans don’t have a sense of humor?” Leonard called over his shoulder as he made his way to their bedroom to change.

“I believe you have, multiple times,” Spock replied.

“What, no exact numbers?”

“It would be illogical for me to count something that occurs so often.”

Leonard gave no witty retort, and Spock began to make dinner, which consisted of taking leftovers from last night’s dinner and warming them up. It was rare that either of them cooked a meal rather than buying take out or using a replicator, but when they did there were leftovers for the next two days. Spock took his soup to the table when it was warm--he sent a message to Nyota inquiring to her grandmother’s well-being, and pulled up papers that needed to be graded for his Physics 101 class. He heard Leonard pad out of their room and grab his food.

“Spock, c’mon, take a break. Let’s watch something.”

“I have put off grading these papers long enough,” he replied without looking up.

“Honey,” Leonard said in a voice that was part exasperated, part commanding. Spock looked over to where his husband was sitting comfortably on a couch, clad in plaid pajama pants and an old Starfleet shirt, leaning back against the arm, clearly looking for someone to cuddle with--it was only logical then, that Spock put away his PADD, took his soup, and sat beside Leonard, partly watching reruns of an old sitcom, mostly listening to the doctor ramble about his day.

Although Spock cared greatly about his husband, his mind began to wander as it hadn’t since he and Leonard started a relationship. Jim’s smile from earlier that day kept finding its way into his thoughts, the smugness of it, the way it crinkled the skin around his blue eyes, and how it had stirred something within him--nothing _romantic_ or maybe not even close to _love_ , only humor and...joy. As if Jim’s own accomplishment, his own cocky assurance of his intelligence, was pleasing--not pleasing, amusing perhaps?--to Spock.

“Also, funny enough, Jim actually messaged me today,” Leonard suddenly said, as if he had taken a glance into Spock’s thoughts (which Spock knew for a fact was not possible--although they had a bond, it was small, not weak exactly, but just enough to project certain emotions through). “He said he saw you when you were giving out that test.”

“Yes. He was the first to complete it,” Spock said. “However, I do not know if he did _well_ on the test--it seems unlikely, considering the length of the test and his time.”

“Said he saw you smile, too,” Leonard said, a hint of teasing but also something _else_ in his tone.

Spock didn’t blush, although he knew he would be if he had less control--part of him felt nearly disloyal to Leonard. For the first year they had known each other, Spock hadn’t smiled at the doctor, at first in annoyance at his gruff and sarcastic exterior, and then at his own denial of what he was feeling. Conversely, Jim made an immediate positive impact on Spock and elicited a nearly full (or completely full, according to Jim) smile from him within several days of knowing him.

“I would not say I smiled. But I did find his attitude upon finishing the test...amusing,” he finally said.

“Didn’t think it was super hot that Mr. Brainiac is a wiz kid at language?” Leonard asked, poking him in the side.

“If proficiency in language attracted me, I would leave you for Nyota in a moment,” Spock said dryly.

“What, the few Vulcan phrases I know don’t get you hot and bothered?” he teased.

“Considering your pronunciation is haggard and emphasis leaves something to be desired, I would say it leaves me more bothered than hot.” Spock had heard Leonard try a few endearments or copy a phrase he had heard Spock or Nyota use, generally early in the morning when Spock began meditation and Leonard was in the shower.

Leonard snorted, not even feigning offense, and Spock let himself be pulled into Leonard’s chest where he was leaning back against the couch’s arm. Even breaths fluttered through his hair, tickling the top of his head.

“So you didn’t talk to him at all?” Leonard eventually asked, breaking the gentle silence they were engulfed in for a few moments.

“I was administering a test, _ashayam_. What would I have said?” he asked.

Leonard shrugged. “No idea.” After a few moments, his hand reached for Spock’s, and he played with his fingers--he reveled in the connection, able to tamp down the primal reaction in the back of his mind. Soft feelings of love flowed between them, but laced in between was something negative and nagging.

“There is no reason to be disappointed, Leonard. We are all busy. We have not had time to interact with Jim as much as we would like,” Spock reminded him, acknowledging the frustration Leonard projected.

Leonard sighed and kissed the top of his head. “Y’know I love you, right?”

“I would never doubt it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a month or so and it's...hrr that long. Lmao, but that's life, kids. Wanted to get some emotions and thoughts out there, and SPOCK IS SO HARD TO WRITE WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THIS. He's an emotional guy but not as forward as Jim and Bones, and he's a little more emotional in this than literally any other fic/story because he's already accepted that emotions can't be eradicated bc he already loves Bones so much. Not too much action in this, because Spock, but I hope it fleshes out Spock's character a little more, helps sharpen some characterization. back to bones next time you guys, who is my favorite to write. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I try my best and I'm glad so many people are enjoying this, that's crazy! I love you all so much let me know what you think, what you're feeling, See you hopefully before another month, let's aim for three (3) weeks this time not five (5) or six (6)? Visit me on tumblr if you want @ not-bumper-stickers  
> I always love kudos and comments!


	4. White Camellia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonesy and Jim go on a date that's definitely not a date to see some neat Science Things.

Senior management had demanded Leonard take three days off. The last time he’d been home in time to have dinner with Spock was three weeks ago, and frankly he had gotten so little sleep that he couldn’t think about anything but doing his job. 

So of course when he got time off, Spock was called to a week long conference across the country about some new physics thing. Leonard had nothing to do but sip at whiskey and watch reruns of their favorite sitcom (well,  _ his  _ favorite sitcom--Spock won’t admit to taking joy in such  _ illogical  _ things). A guy can only go so long being alone though--he talked to Spock every night before bed, however briefly, but talking wasn’t the same as being around people.

Nyota had classes to teach, the Sulus were off on a little vacation to Washington State, Christine was working.  _ All _ his friends were working. Well, except maybe Jim. But something about visiting or hanging out with Jim while Spock was across the country had Leonard feeling weird, which was weird in and of itself--he wasn’t having an affair with the guy. Something, though, made Leonard shoot a text to Spock. 

 

_ To Spocko: Hey darlin, hope everything’s going well. Just wanted to check with you, it’s okay if I hang out with Jim right?  _

 

_ From Spocko: Yes. You are an adult, Leonard, I am sure you can make those decisions yourself.  _

 

_ To Spocko: I know, I know I’m being “illogical” just wanted to keep you in the loop _

 

_ From Spocko: However, if you are going to “make moves” on him, as humans say, do not omit any details when we speak later.  _

 

_ To Spocko: Jesus, Spock! I’m not gonna make moves. I just need someone to hang out with  _

 

_ To Spocko: But I mean...if I did it would be OK? _

 

_ From Spocko: I believe I have answered that question previously.  _

 

It wasn’t like he was going to. He hadn’t even  _ talked _ to Jim about any of this, and he wasn’t planning to without Spock there. 

 

* * *

 

He met Jim at the flower shop where he was working. Or “working” as it were. He was listening to another podcast and doodling on a PADD. Leonard once again wandered up to the counter unnoticed, plucking a daisy out of its water on his way past, and dropped it directly under Jim’s nose. The man’s eyes snapped up, wide, then his face cracked into a grin. 

“Bones,” Jim said, voice light with...something. “I just need to finish up then we can get coffee.” 

Leonard looked askance at the PADD--there was a looping illustration of a rose-ish looking flower and some leaves--and back at Jim with a raised eyebrow. “Your jobs tough.”

“I’m designing centerpieces for a couple’s wedding. What do you think?” He held up the drawing so Leonard could see it clearer. 

“It’s, uh, pretty, I s’pose.” Jim’s lips turned down slightly, pouting. “Jesus, Jim, no reason to look like a kicked puppy. I’m a doctor, not a florist.”

“Well, what kind of flowers did you and Spock have at your wedding?” 

Leonard took a second to understand what Jim was actually asking and what he had assumed. He and Spock not being officially married wasn’t something he ever felt embarrassed or  _ bad _ about really, but right now he kinda wished he could give Jim an answer. He briefly thought about mentioning his wedding to his ex-wife, but figured that might be a little heavy a little fast.

“We never had a ceremony,” he said, and added quickly, “but I think that arrangement looks nice.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s not supposed to ‘look nice,’ it’s supposed to make people cry because it’s so beautiful--y’know fit into the whole aesthetic of the wedding.” Jim bit his lip and glared with laser focus down at the PADD, like he could figure it all out after a few minutes. “What about roses?” he asked after a few minutes.

“Roses are tacky.” 

“They’re romantic.”

“Fine, then they’re cliche.”

“Are daisies any better?” He eyed the white daisy sitting on the desk, rubbing the stem with his pinky. 

Leonard cleared his throat and looked away. “Less expected, I guess.” 

“Fair enough,” Jim said and set his illustration aside. “I can finish this later.”

Leonard waited patiently as he got his bag from a back room. He picked at the daisy, subconsciously doing that silly little rhyme Johanna would do sometimes.

Jim came back out, satchel slung over his shoulder, store apron switched out for a sweater vest that put Leonard’s grandpa to shame. He raised an eyebrow at it, but Jim just shrugged.  

“It’s comfortable. Don’t make fun of me! Calmira’s Cold Brew is open right now,” Jim said as they walked out the door. “It’s only a few blocks away. And then I was thinking...if you’re up to it, there’s a science convention not too far away.”

“Science convention? Like, what, a science fair?” All Leonard could picture was making baking soda and vinegar volcanoes with his brother in fourth grade. 

“Not a high school science fair, Bones. Like a cool one with physics and new technology and shit.” Then he thought about some of the ‘experiments’ Spock would bring home and understood. 

“Alright, maybe that doesn’t sound so bad.” 

Calmira’s Cold Brew was a quaint coffee shop tucked between two massive Starfleet buildings. A little hologram sign of a cat drinking coffee buzzed quietly above them as a bell announced their presence.  _ Homey  _ was the first thing that came to Leonard’s mind--there was a bar counter on his left and an ugly green couch and two big armchairs around a glass coffee table on his right. Kinda reminded him of his ma’s house at Thanksgiving: She would just shove as many seats together as possible so they could all sit together. Despite the horrendous furniture, people were sitting around drinking coffee.

“Jim!” a familiar, accented voice called out.

“Hey, Pav,” Jim replied as he leaned against the counter. “How’s it going?”

“I’m wonderful! I love working 11-hour shifts.” Sarcasm spilled through Chekov’s voice, then he noticed Leonard awkwardly loitering at the door. “Doctor!”

“Hey Chekov.” He moved to stand next to his...friend...at the counter. “Seems like you have your hands full.”

“Oh, Doctor, it is awful! Fatima called sick on convention day! There are so many people I cannot work!” 

Leonard and Jim exchanged a glance. “Should we go?” 

“No no no no, Jim is special, he is my friend. And you Doctor...you are okay.” Chekov said it with a kind of pained expression on his face--like it hurt to admit that Leonard really wasn’t so bad after all.

“Gee, thanks.” 

“Don’t take it personally, Bones. He distrusts most Americans when he first meets them.” Jim nudged Leonard. “And you’re the most American of them all, right?”

Leonard scoffed at that. “What the hell’s that s’posed to mean?” 

“You’re abrasive, loud, and Southern. I mean, c’mon.” 

“He’s right.” Chekov somehow already got two hot coffees for them to go. “Very American. Still good, though.”

Leonard sipped his, pleased to find it plain black and kind of burning his tongue, which isn’t a great feeling when it’s 70-degrees out and humid but still not so bad. Jim was already transferring money to the shop before Leonard could stop him. 

“C’mon, Jim, I coulda paid for that,” he said half-heartedly. 

“It’s only a few bucks, don’t worry, Bones. See ya, Pav!” he called over his shoulder as they made there way back onto the street. 

“Yeah, but I’m the one who invited you out.”

“Hmm, what a gentleman,” Jim teased.

“Sure, Scarlet O'Hara.” He glanced over at the florist, only to find his head cocked and eyes scrunched, trying to place the reference. “ _ Gone with the Wind,  _ Jim.”

Jim snapped his fingers and nodded. “Right! Damn if you remember that, Bones, I can’t imagine when you were born.”

“Ah, shut up, Jim. It’s a classic. Translates as well as a bark to neigh to today, but still a classic.” He hadn’t even seen the film or read the book. Just knew about it from high school English teachers going on and on about this or that. Never really did like much of it. “What exactly is gonna be at this convention? Weird lookin’ dogs?”

Jim snorted. “Maybe some biology stuff, but just new stuff. I’m not exactly sure, I just heard some friends talking about it and thought it would be cool.” 

“Great, more ways to get sucked into the vacuum of space and torn up like a pig on slaughter day.” He could  _ feel  _ Jim giving him a horrified look. “What?” 

“There’s lab grown bacon for a reason, Bones,” he said. 

“It’s just a colloquialism, kid. There’s no way you don’t enjoy a good slab of bacon every now and then--and don’t even get me started on lab grown bacon.” There’s a beat of silence, then. “Nope, you already got me started. You wanna look me in the eyes and tell me lab-grown, chemically produced bacon is the same as the bacon off a pig nurtured and grown by the loving hands of a hometown farmer?” 

“It’s all bacon! And one of them nobody has to die for.”

“What else are you gonna do with a pig, Jim? Life isn’t  _ Charlotte’s Web. _ ” 

Jim laughs--it’s a sound that warms Leonard to the bones the way whiskey does after a day of work. “Okay, that’s fair.” 

They walk in silence that’s verging on uncomfortable. Leonard clears his throat, but doesn’t have anything clever to say. They’re walking shoulder to shoulder, elbows brushing every once in a while--a few cars pass, humming along the road before Jim says, “You’re scared of space?” 

“Humans were never meant to go to space! One bit of exposure to that vacuum and you’re frozen dead--mind you, that’s  _ after  _ your eyes pop out of skull and your whole body implodes. Not to mention the diseases--God the diseases! You ever heard of Andorian shingles?” Jim shakes his head to the rhetorical question, obviously trying not to giggle. “Good! You don’t even want know what that is. You’d be sicker than a dog if you even breathed near somebody infected with it.”

“Yet somehow, you’re married to a Starfleet officer.”

This made Leonard stop for a second--sure, sometimes he thought about it, but never for long and never too deeply. Someday, Spock might go into space on one of those godforsaken star ships to be an officer of something or other. And where would he be? Running around in the hospital constantly wondering if Spock was okay, when he was gonna call, if they would even have enough  _ energy  _ to talk when they found time. And suddenly, he wanted Spock to be here, walkin’ and talkin’ with them, bein’ snarky in his own Spock way.  

Jim bumped against his shoulder. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”  

“Nah, it’s alright. Just thinkin’ about Spock.” 

“He’s off at the Alberta Conference, right?”

“Yeah. Damn coincidence it was right when I get a few days off. He’d be a lot more interested in this science fair you’re bringin’ me to.”

“I heard there’s gonna be some medical stuff there, too. C’mon, Bonesy, you’ll have fun.  At the very least, it’ll be something to tell Spock about. Way more interesting than sitting around at home watching reruns of  _ Baby and Babbitt _ , at least.” 

Leonard snorted, partly offended at how easily Jim read him, mostly amused because, well, it was true. “Well, damn, Jim why don’t you just murder me in cold blood?” 

Jim laughed and bumped into Leonard again. The warmth bloomed from his shoulder to his chest, and a little, stupid giggle bubbled up and out of him. “To be fair, you’ve definitely texted me more than once about it.” 

 

“It’s a good show!” he protested just as they crested the hill to the convention.

People were waiting outside, funneling in slowly, like cows to slaughter (maybe that was a little mean. It couldn’t possibly be that bad)--and Jim grabbed his arm; Leonard looked at him in surprise, only to see him practically  _ vibrating  _ with excitement. Alright, if Jim was so damn excited, he could be too. There’d be some cool medical robots or some experimental vaccines that he somehow hadn’t heard about.

“Didn’t realize it was that big of a deal. Woulda thought  _ Moonbeam Enzyme _ was playin’ by this crowd.” There was a group comprised of two humans and an orion on their right chattering like birds as they passed, totally oblivious to anything around them.

“Okay, so maybe I have ulterior motives by bringing you here.”

Leonard gave Jim a quizzical look, and he smiled back a little sheepishly. 

“Sarek of Vulcan is making a kind-of-surprise appearance.”

Leonard sputtered and stopped short. “Sarek? Like, Spock’s dad Sarek?” Of course it was Spock’s dad, how many Sareks of Vulcan are there? It’s not like Leonard didn’t like the guy, but the first time they met, he did  _ everything  _ right: tried not to show too much emotion, talked about what he supposed were very  _ logical  _ things, and tried not to talk too much, for that matter. Yet Sarek always seemed to be judging him with those...eyebrows. Spock had assured him Sarek liked him fine, but it was hard to see. Hadn’t really changed the few other times they’d seen Spock’s parents. 

Jim’s turned around to him, lookin’ all guilty. “I thought maybe...you’d know? We don’t have to do this, you know. Sorry for not telling you, I just thought…”

Leonard surveyed his face for a second--the downturn of his lips, the slight crease of worry between his eyebrows--and sighed. “Hey, no, Jim, don’t worry about it. There’s hundreds...thousands of people here. He probably won’t even be paying attention to the crowd. Plus, he’s my husband’s dad--I can talk to the guy if I need to.”  _ No I can’t.  _

Jim beamed at him, and they started back into the swathes of people. 

Just as they entered the convention center, Leonard’s comm buzzed. 

 

_ From Spocko: My father is in town. I’ve told him you would meet him for dinner at Clarity’s at 9:00 and that our house is open for him to stay at.  _

_ To Spocko: Yeah, just figured that out.  _

_ From Spocko: You’re going to the convention? _

_ To Spocko: Jim convinced me.  _

_ From Spocko: Have a nice date _

_ To Spocko: with Jim or your dad? _

_ From Spocko: Both.  _

 

And who said Vulcan’s don’t have a sense of humor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay I know nothing about science conventions and very little about science. I don't know how I feel about Bones calling Spock Spocko in his contacts it just felt right in the moment. Not a lot of action in this chapter, I just tried to let it flow how a normal (kinda normal) conversation would. If you see any glaring mistakes, please call me out.
> 
> Also I know that I said this might be up sooner, but we all know THAT'S A LIE. I worked forever on this, I wanted it to be good I did my best I hope everybody likes it. Thank you so much for reading, the next chapter may be more substantive and probably will be from Spock's POV (I know I'm messing up the pattern, believe me I'm aware). Thank you for sticking with me so far I really, really, really appreciate it, and I hope you all like this chapter. You can find me on [tumblr](http://not-bumper-stickers.tumblr.com/) to say hi or just look around. 
> 
> Kudos are appreciated and COMMENTS ARE LOVED <3.


	5. Oleander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard and Sarek have dinner. Leonard worries. What's new?

This was weird. And Leonard definitely wasn’t _making_ it weird; it was just weird.

He and Jim had listened to Sarek’s talk with the rest of the crowd and walked around for a little longer before Leonard got a message from Spock’s dad. It was polite enough, as everything with Sarek was, but he was also fucking terrified. He had been alone with Sarek only twice, and it was awful both times--no small talk with aliens...at least, not with Vulcans.

Ruefully, he said his goodbyes to Jim and met Sarek at the back entrance of the convention hall.

Now, they were having dinner at _Clarity’s,_ Leonard talking about this or that, trying to keep Sarek, who had only talked briefly and ate mostly in silence, somewhat interested. In any other circumstance, Leonard would just assume the Vulcan was just being, y’know, _Vulcan,_ but there was definitely something off.

When there was a small lull in the one-sided conversation, Sarek set down his spoon and said, “How is Spock?”

Leonard thought about the question, and wondered (briefly) if father and son had talked at all lately. “He’s doing well. At a convention right now--uh, physics one, I think. Damn unfortunate it was scheduled this week, though. Been a while since I’ve taken time off.”

“Indeed,” Sarek said.

“I thought about going with him, but, uh, it was sort of a last minute thing.” Like a child, he pushed around his food on his plate--he could just imagine his mother giving him a wack for it. “Are you planet side for the convention or…?”

Sarek stared at him for a moment, and if Leonard was a betting man he’d say that Spock’s dad might have been actually _hesitating_ to say something. He shifted then, barely perceptible, and if he had been human would have surely cleared his throat. “I am here to speak with Spock as well. The convention was conveniently timed.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you when he gets back. Nothing bad, I hope?” Leonard said it lightly, but it was the wrong thing to say. For only a second, Sarek’s face contorted into something akin to grief before reverting back to a blank slate. Leonard shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “He’ll be back in a few days. Until then, we have a room at the house that you can stay in.”

“Spock informed me,” Sarek said.

Leonard just nodded, then looked at his watch for lack of anything better to do. “It’s getting pretty late.”

 

* * *

 

 

The lights came on as they entered the house. There was a bowl of old cereal sitting on the counter--ironic how more time makes people more slovenly...or it was just him. He slipped it ashamedly into the sink.

“Make yourself at home. I’m just gonna check on the guestroom real quick. Uh, you can put your things on the couch for now.” The guest room was across the hall from the room he and Spock shared, and neither of them had been in there for a while. Sometimes Leonard used it as an office when paperwork got out of control, but that hadn’t been for at least a few weeks. The last thing he wanted was to offend his practical father-in-law with untidiness.

As he picked up wayward clothes and fixed the bedspread, he thought back to the news Sarek had for Spock--and not good news, at that. It could be something about diplomatic relations, or something to do with his family, or something with physics--like a hole in the space time continuum. That would be golden.

Leonard sighed, set down a tablet on a small desk, and rubbed his face. He was worrying too much--that’s what Spock would tell him if he were here, only more eloquently; whatever Sarek needed to tell Spock he’d hear about it at some point. It was obvious Sarek only wanted his son to know now, and Leonard was just going to have to deal with that.

When he walked into the main room of the house, Sarek was looking at his PADD, face virtually blank. Leonard cleared his throat. “Room’s all set.”

Sarek looked up. “Thank you, Leonard.” And he went briskly into the guestroom. After a minute passed, and he didn’t come back out, Leonard flopped down onto the couch, exhausted. Amazing how he could work nearly 16 hour shifts, get three hours of sleep, and be ready as a rooster the next day, but being a normal person for a day sucked it out of him.

He had the day off tomorrow, then he was back to work. And tomorrow he’d have to find a way to entertain the unexpected house guest who was impossible to entertain. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to relax--the cushions of the couch were poking into him in all the wrong ways. If it were just a day with Jim, he wouldn’t be this drained.

He should call Spock.

Spock was in robes, face a bit drawn in tiredness. _“Leonard.”_

He completely relaxed upon hearing his husband’s voice. “Hey, darlin’.”

_“Has my father settled in well?”_

“Yeah, he’s all set.”

_“And your time with Jim?”_

Leonard smiled a little. “Well, let’s see, I was mocked by Chekov for being Southern, judged by Jim for liking bacon, and discussed my existential fear of space. Then had an awkward dinner with your dad. So overall it was pretty good.”

A nearly imperceptible quirk of Spock’s brow gave away his amusement. _“What did you speak about?”_

Leonard sighed and rested his head against the back of the couch. “Not much, really. He’s planning to stick around to see you. Said there was something he wanted to talk to you about.”

_“I see.”_

“In person, I s’pose,” he said. “I think he’ll be here until you get back which is…?”

 _“I will arrive home in two days, Leonard.”_ There was something in his voice that sounded almost strained. _“Will you be well until then, ashayam?”_

He couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m a doctor, Spock. I think I’ll be okay.”

Spock arched an eyebrow and sighed. _“You know that is not what I meant.”_

“Seriously, Spock, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. It’s only another day then I’m back to work.” The next part Leonard fake-whispered, “Your dad’s not that bad.”

 _“I know my father.”_ From Spock’s side, there was a knock. _“I must go, Leonard. Good night.”_

“Good night. I love you.”

 _“And I you.”_ There was a beat before either of them could hang up, then Spock resolutely ended the connection. Leonard sighed heavily and laid back on the couch. He wanted his husband to be home. He wanted to know that Spock’s planet and family were alright. But most of all, he just wanted Spock to be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, hello again! This is sort of an interim chapter, I'm just sort of building up, but I felt like after the last chapter, I needed something more, but didn't want to add more to that one. So here it is! Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please leave kudos and comments. I love comments. If you didn't enjoy it, leave me hate comments, because that's honestly iconic. Okay! see you next time! And next time there will be more Bang and POW, y'know?


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